


The Letter

by Mughi



Series: Avatar:  The Hogwarts AU [1]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossover, F/F, F/M, Hogwarts, M/M, Wizarding World
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 02:44:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8560321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mughi/pseuds/Mughi
Summary: Hiroshi Sato receives a very odd letter making either very little sense or sense of things in a way he never thought possible





	

**Author's Note:**

> While this is a crossover, it's not really a normal crossover in the vein of characters crossing dimensions and meeting each other. It's crossing the worlds. So basically, Avatar characters + the wizarding world of Harry Potter - the characters of Harry Potter + Avatar world influences...or something like that.

Hiroshi Sato stared at the letter in his hands. His arms felt leaden.  Numb. He turned it around, examined the back, felt the paper. He read it again. It was a joke, he thought at first. A prank of some sort. It would be an elaborate one, but it wouldn’t be the first time he had been the victim of an elaborate prank. He was hardly an unknown figure, and a number of his friends and colleagues had very fertile imaginations. That was in fact they very reason they had grown as close as they had. Extended sessions brainstorming how to squeeze the most efficiency out of an engine or arguing over how best stabilize a running robot had formed deep camaraderies.  That same talent had led to some complex pranks. He smiled briefly remembering the time a machinist friend of his had managed to design a miniature amphibian vehicle that took his keys and played keep away with them on the bottom of a swimming pool. It hadn’t seemed quite so funny at the time, but even then he had managed to admire the vehicle’s aquatic maneuverability. No one he knew had the skill for this, though.

That, and as much as he wanted to tell himself a prank was the only thing that made sense, it wasn’t.  But the only other option made sense in ways that were far from comfortable.

He put the letter down and reached to examine the envelope again but stopped himself. He had read the letter eight times now. He had examined the envelope twelve times before he opened it. He needed to get his mind off it, to focus on something else. He put the letter down and tucked it away in its envelope then his desk drawer and locked the drawer. He sighed. For him, there was no getting something off his mind. Not really. There was only changing focus and letting what he had been focusing on drift to the backburners of his consciousness where it would percolate, jumping to the fore suddenly and unpredictably after reacting with some new variable or receiving enough unconscious consideration for answers to be worked out. There was little that better helped his mind, so he grabbed his phone and the keycard to the lab and let his mind begin to drift. He hadn't planned to go to work today, but the prototype still needed work, and Asami was plunged deep into one of her projects.

_Asami. What would it mean if- no.  Put it aside_ , he told himself and went to say goodbye.

He approached her workroom quietly, not wanting to disturb her project. The workroom. When he and his wife Yasuko bought the house, they planned for it to be their children's playroom.  They'd had dreams of a large family and a full house together, but Yasuko was gone, now, and those dreams with her.  The room was still Asami’s, though, and in a way it was still a playroom. Just a different kind of “play.”  He smiled with affection as he watched her, wires and circuits, tools and parts spread out in a crescent in front of her.   _She’s certainly your daughter. He_ thought fondly.

She stopped, noticing him somehow despite her focus and smiled.  “I’m working on my flier!”  She said with a smile.  He smiled back.  

“Have you given thought to-”

“No, dad. Then it’ll be a helicopter, not a flier.”  His smile broadened.  Her “flier,” as she called it - a winged doll that had actually been able to fly to some effect - had been her pet project for nearly half a year. They were thin, humanoid things with two sets of wings on their backs born of her recent reading of _A Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making. The_ wing design was remarkably inefficient, and rotor blades would be easier, but neither fact fit her vision.  Still, her project seemed to hit any number of catastrophic setbacks neither had been able to find an answer for. Perfectly well wired circuits seemed to short for no reason. Wings flapped at unexpected speed they weren’t built to handle, ruining the work she had put into building them. Her one success was accidental and had proven unreproducible so far.

“You’re absolutely right, Asami.”  He said.  “Trust in your vision. I know you can do it. Her smile brightened.  “I’m going to the workshop. I have some things in my own project I need to work out.”  She looked at him critically.

“You’re going to your big computer, Dad.  It’s not a workshop.”

“It’s a simulator, Asami.  It-”

“Dad, I _know_ what a simulator is.  You build things in a workshop.  That’s how you know whether or not they work.  A computer _isn’t_ a workshop.  The place you build your prototype is.”

“I don’t control the official designations, Asami. Only what gets built.”

“You _could_.”

“It wouldn’t be-”

“You named the company.”

“Yes, well…”  He said, sheepishly looking away.  “I’ll ask about that.”

She grinned.  “Are you going to be back for dinner?”

“Yes.  Well, I plan to be.”

"I'll leave your portions separated in the fridge for you."

"Yes...well...thank you."  He said. There was no arguing his track record on that point or the prudence of her setting his portion size.  His terrible eating habits needed to be counteracted somehow.  Instead he checked the maintenance routines of the service bots before he left the house and paged his car, seeing their course as it arrived.

As he stepped in, both he and the car went on autopilot. He buckled himself in and sent the reservation request for the simulator as his car read his body language, selected music and maneuvered through the streets.  Neither one gave its actions any more conscious thought than the other.  His mind was somewhere else, and there it remained as he stepped out of the car, scanned himself in and absent-mindedly greeted the receptionist.

"A breakthrough brewing Mr. Sato?"  She asked with a smile as he walked by.

"Any minute now."  He answered and disappeared into the deep corridors of the complex.

Hours later he was staring bleary-eyed at the access terminal. He hadn't looked away from it yet since arriving.  He programmed in the variables and ran the simulator and watched.  The water skimmer managed to endure a six inch wave this time before sinking.  He squinted in disapproval.  It should have worked.  It should be able to ride a wave of at least two feet. He ran it again.  It failed again, and he pulled up the simulator code.

_There has to be a mistake in here._  He thought.   _That should have worked.  It **will** work._

“Having trouble, Hiroshi?”

Hiroshi gave a tired laugh but didn’t turn.  He didn’t have to.  He recognized the voice of one of Garrett, one of his chief engineers and oldest friends.  The need for formalities between them had long since faded away.

“That’s one way of putting it.” He said.  “What are you doing here, Garret?  It’s Sunday.  You should be at home with your family. “

“Let he who has not yet sinned.”  Garret answered.  “I just, I had something I wanted to try to work out.”

“And?” Hiroshi asked. Garrett grimaced.

“It didn’t work out.  I was hoping…well, it doesn’t matter.  Hiro, I’m retiring the ZEBRA project.”

Hiroshi paused, his focus finally drawn away from the simulator code.  “Garret, what are you saying? The ZEBRA’s your dream. It's been your dream as long as I've known you. How long have we known each other?”

“Doesn't matter,” he said. “Can't keep dreaming an impossible dream. I think it’s time to just accept it.”

“Garrett, you can't be serious.”

“You'll have the report on your desk by Monday.”

“Garrett, the science behind it is sound-”

“Hiro, we've tried every way we know how. I just have to accept that it can't be done.”

Hiroshi said nothing for a moment, then slowly took off his glasses and turned to Garrett in the eyes, locking Garrett in place with his stare.

“‘ _Every way we know how_ ,’ Garrett?”

“Hiro-”

“No, Garrett. ‘Every way we know how?’ If we _knew_ how we wouldn't have to invent it.  Do you know what would have happened if we’d stopped developing the LISA after trying every way we knew how?  It never would have gotten made, is what.  Do you know what, "It can't be done," means, Garrett?"

Garrett sighed and shook his head. It was a rueful shake; he knew the answer.  Everyone in Future Industries had heard some variation on the answer at least once before.

"It means ‘I don't know how it would be done,’ not that it's actually impossible."

Hiroshi smiled warmly and clapped him on the shoulder.  "Precisely right, old friend.  Figure it out.  Get it done."

Garrett smiled, exasperated but encouraged.  He nodded.  "I'll get to that."  He said as he began to walk away.  "Let me know how that "No such thing as impossible" bit works out for you after you've given up on those water runners!"

"If mother nature can do it, so can I!"  He called after him, and was answered with a laugh. He turned back to his work.  "Nothing is impossible."  He said softly and paused, remembering Yasuko, his wife and Asami's mother and the woman who had built his faith in the principle. He still missed her every day.

He started, suddenly, as his mind pulled something into focus.  Yasuko, on the night she'd died.  No.  The night she’d been murdered. He had to remember that, too always carry that distinction with him. It had been _done_ to her. She hadn’t died in a car accident or by disease or even a reckless driver. Someone had broken into their home, evaded their security, murdered her, hurt Asami and disappeared without a trace.

"I have a surprise for you," she'd said with a smile that night.  "One that will change everything."  She said it while he was struggling with the prototype of his service robot. For some reason, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the standing up algorithms right.  The hardware was built with all the parts necessary, he was sure, but something in its code was tripping it up, and having an assistant robot didn't matter much for an elderly person if it became useless the first time it lost its balance or couldn't climb stairs.  His competitors couldn't see that. They just made theirs as stable, which to them meant heavy, as possible, hoping they'd never fall. They were comfortable with their models needing accessibility ramps. He wouldn't accept that compromise, but his investors were losing their patience with the 3rd quarter coming to a close. Then, that morning, she'd come to him with an enigmatic expression on her face, part excited, part something else. He had never found out why. Suddenly, though, he felt certain he knew.

He stepped away from the console, walking quickly, ignoring the coworkers who called out to him as he paged his car.  He stepped in and overrode the automation, reaching back to his manor, ignoring the warnings his navigation systems gave out. He knew how to drive. He'd practically taught the system how to drive, and he had no time to wait.

He got home, dashed to his study and, breathless, opened his desk and took the letter, his hands shaking again.

He read the letter and read it again and again and again. His eyes began to burn as the letter crumpled in his unconsciously tightening grip. He slowly slumped into his chair, sinking into its familiar comfort as tears filled his eyes and streamed down his face.

“Yasuko, was that it?” He asked, his voice shaking. “Why couldn't you have told me earlier?  How much? How much?” His head sank into his hands. He struggled to fight back his sobs. But then sound of a small explosion accompanied by a scream shook him from his out of his reverie.  He jumped to his feet and ran toward it. It had come from Asami’s workshop.

_No,_ he thought in a panic _, not again. Not Asami._

He reached her workshop to find debris scattered everywhere. Asami was curled on the ground, making a sound somewhere between coughing and sobbing.  He scanned the room, but no one else was in it.

“Asami, honey, are you okay? What happened?”

“The…the flyer, it…I couldn't…it just...it just…”

Her flier had exploded? No, it couldn't possibly have done so much damage. He crouched down next to her and reached out. He felt a mix of distress and relief as she buried herself in his arms. He held her while she cried, uncertain what to do. He felt helpless. It was terrifying. Something had exploded, unsettling Asami, and feeling her small, fragile and shaking in his arms unsettled him in a way nothing had in years. Not since Yasuko’s passing. Whatever had done it, he wanted to make sure it never happened again. Whatever had done it, he wanted to know what he could do to take its pain away. For now, though, it seemed simply being there and holding her was enough. As her shaking settled and her breathing steadied, he found himself calming as well.

“Why do they keep breaking?” She asked. “How did that happen? It doesn't make any sense.”

He suddenly realized he was still holding the letter, and then this, the malfunctions, how to help, everything, fell into place.

He slowly pulled her back away from him and uncrumpled the letter in front of her so she could see. He took a deep breath.

“You're a wizard Asami.” He said.

**Author's Note:**

> Much like a lot of the fanfiction I put out these days (what little I manage to get out!), this one was inspired by people talking about some version of the premise I ran with on tumblr. The basic premise is, "What if the characters from the Avatar universe were in the Hogwarts Wizarding World?" So I went with that; though, much like a lot of the writing I put out, I thought about it a looot. Like a looooooooot. So, who would be in which generation? There are three generations of people to think about in Avatar, so what did that mean for who would be a teacher and who would be a student? Do people have to stay in "their" generations? What would be the motivations of the villains and their methods so removed from the world and powers of Avatar? What happens with characters whose identity were strongly ties to their Avatar world status? I have answers for all of these; though, they may be a long time coming. If you want to strap in and bear with me, we'll be going on a ride. A very long, slow ride, but one I hope we will all find worth it.
> 
> As always, you can find this and my thoughts and teasers as I work on it at (the poorly designed) escritorian.tumblr.com


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